


The Body Yields

by cloverfield



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Established Relationship, Gentle Sex, M/M, Massage, Post-Series, Slip 'n' Slide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: Fai is no stranger to Kurogane’s body, after all.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	The Body Yields

**Author's Note:**

> Fai gives Kurogane a massage, and they both make a slippery mess.

“If you told me earlier, it wouldn’t be so bad,” murmurs Fai, and the noise Kurogane makes as he digs his thumbs into the tight bands of muscle radiating out from his neck and across his shoulders is mostly muffled by the bedding. Even so, Fai can hear the pain in it.

“I didn’t,” mutters Kurogane, raising his head just enough to speak, “think it would get this bad.” His breath is steady, and does not hitch, even when Fai finds the edges of a stubborn knot and rolls his knuckles across it, kneading into tight and aching flesh.

Fai supposes he should be grateful that Kurogane told him at all, really; that the proud man before him (beneath him, currently, Fai perching on his hips with legs splayed out across the bed) would admit to pain where before he would keep his hurts to himself and snap at anyone that would draw close enough to poke at them. They’ve both grown on this journey, and are the better for it.

So he simply hums and reaches for the oil, and says nothing of it when Kurogane sighs beneath the slow trickle of cool oil down his spine and turns his face into the sheets once more.

Fai takes his time, the sweet scent of almonds rising as the oil warms on dusky skin, clary sage and wintergreen spicing the air crisply herbaceous; he tastes _green_ and _rich_ and _sharp_ on his tongue as he breathes deep, Kurogane’s back rising beneath his palms as he follows the meter set by Fai’s own breathing. The fine tremors that race beneath skin pulled taut and aching muscle ease with the slow pass of his hands, the press of palm and the patter of his fingertips, and slowly, slowly even the last of the tension that tenses this strong back melts into something almost relaxed.

 _Almost_ , and it makes Fai smile to see the way his lover shudders, just a little, as slippery fingers slide down the arch of his spine, splay sideways to fan across the breadth of his back and stroke along his scars, slipping along the intricate braiding of the muscle that spans between his ribs, and it is the kind of smile that Kurogane would know well if only he could see it: secretive and sly and more than a little wanting.

Fai is no stranger to Kurogane’s body, after all.

The room is warmer, now, not nearly as cool as the evening that presses gently, darkly against the palace walls, billowing starlight over this small island in Clow’s vast deserts. Candlelight jumps against the walls, slow shivering shadows where the curtains billow softly, night air sighing through the balcony windows and whispering across the room. Heat rises where skin meets skin, and oil slick between them; long clever fingers knead less and stroke more, and what was a healing touch becomes a caressing one - but no less healing for that, no, maybe even more so. 

It’s not very long at all before Kurogane shifts beneath him, restless, hips pressing against the bed below them, and when Fai twists a little, turns a little, tangles one hand in the rustling sheets to lift his weight from the man below, his lover takes the invitation as it is meant and turns over beneath him. “I’ll get oil on the sheets,” is the murmur, but a strong hand (with tendons and bone of wire and metal, a cool synthetic touch that is just as loved, just as wanted) curls about the arch of Fai’s waist all the same and urges him back down.

“Most likely,” sighs Fai, settling into the cradle of Kurogane’s hips - but then, they _are_ in the royal palace; he doubts their hosts want for bedding so much to even notice one more set ruined. He spares no more thought for the sheets, then, does not even notice the way silky oil bleeds through fine linen where it pours and pools and trickles down from the mouth of the bottle and across Kurogane’s chest, painting glistening lines across skin that Fai has mapped with lips and tongue and worshipful fingers in nights since passed.

The scent of almonds and sage is rising again, appetising and sweetly-sharp, and when Fai spreads his hands wide across the slick expanse of Kurogane’s chest, the groan that rumbles beneath his palms sets a fire in his blood to hear it. It’s easy to slide his hands down, down, stroke them greedily over the muscle that ripples beneath the flat of Kurogane’s stomach, and the drag of his thumbs along the blades of Kurogane’s hipbones provokes a long, arching shudder.

Fai shudders a little when big hands land on his thighs with heavy surety, the sweet roughness of callused palms dragging over skin that feels too tight beneath that touch a startling thing, but it’s in no way from discomfort, and when Kurogane looks up at him from beneath heavy-hooded eyes, his gaze hot and wanting, the smile on Fai’s face turns _wicked_.

“I am so glad,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into that touch and rocking teasingly across the heat rising beneath him, “that we decided to do this naked.”

“Heh,” says Kurogane, more a breath than a chuckle, but then he lifts one hand to slick it across his gleaming belly before bringing it back to the width of Fai’s thigh, slippery fingers sliding across pale skin to leave glistening trails. If Fai jumps beneath that sudden stroke, shuddering at the touch of oil warmed by his lover’s body heat, there is no judgement here, nothing like censure in the eyes of the man that watches him; only pride that Fai has chosen him and no one else, only an affection hard won, and not a little bit of lust, besides.

“We need more oil,” comes the low-voiced command, and Fai obliges, spilling it across wetly shining skin and tossing the empty vessel aside. It trickles in shimmering rivulets, slips down the path of least resistance, and when Kurogane pulls him down to lie belly to belly and thigh to thigh, Fai goes willingly, the slick glide of their skin dizzying in its sheer heat.

It’s easy to let his hands wander, to let them glide and stroke and tangle oily fingers in just barely damp hair; easy to gasp when heavy, muscled legs sling over his hips and wrap about his thighs to pin him in place, strong arms curling around his back to hold him tight as they slip against one another, surging back and together once more with heat rising between them with each slide.

When Fai sets his teeth to the meat of Kurogane’s shoulder, groaning out a helpless plea - _more yes faster there there there_ \- he earns himself a shuddering snap of Kurogane’s hips, and when he rakes his fingers down the span of Kurogane’s ribs in desperate lines, he shudders beneath the weight of the hot breath that gasps into the tangled mess of his sweat-sticky hair.

“Kuro-sama,” he says, _moans_ , eyes squeezing shut against the blurring corners of his vision, “ _Kuro-sama_ ,” and Kurogane growls with sudden fierceness, clawing strong fingers down the slope of Fai’s back, blunt fingernails scraping as he rolls beneath Fai like the tide coming in, and the sharp, sweet pain of it sparks across his skin like lightning. “ _Yes_ -!”

It’s almost enough, almost, _almost_ , and then Kurogane _laughs_ \- dark and soft and so damn lovely - tucking his head into the slope of Fai’s neck, his forehead pressing hot and sweaty against Fai’s flushed face, and the catch of his teeth on the lobe of Fai’s ear is all he needs to topple over the edge and into the breathless, shivering beyond.

He’s still gasping, shuddering, helpless with the pleasure of it all when Kurogane rolls them over, and his hands clutch greedily at the slope of those magnificent shoulders as his lover surges into the slick mess spilled between them. The scent of oil and the taste of sex rolls hot and sweetly-humid across Fai’s tongue as he is pressed down into the bed, and the much-loved weight of the man above him is not something he would change for all the stars in every world there is.

Kurogane shudders above him, once, twice, pressing warm and slick and close as he breathes out a sigh and spills heat across Fai’s belly. He sinks down slow and heavy into their boneless tangle of warm limbs without care for the mess, and Fai can barely gather the strength to trail one hand down that beautiful, scarred back; it’s all he can do to turn his head and accept the kiss pressed gently to his mouth, and if his eyes close before his lover can ease himself away to clean them both up, it’s for a rest well earned.

**Author's Note:**

> Slow, gentle, post-series sex is a favourite kink of mine for this pairing. 
> 
> (They totally ruined the sheets; only the maids noticed, and after working in the same palace as the crown prince and his high priest, no-one batted a single eyelash.)


End file.
